


Young Justice One-Shots

by Disco_Wing



Category: Young Justice - All Media Types
Genre: Originally Posted on Tumblr, Prompt Fic, Recommendations, Tumblr Ask Box Fic, ask me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-11
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-03-03 08:32:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13337391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Disco_Wing/pseuds/Disco_Wing
Summary: This is a book filled with all the one-shots that people requested I write for them. (Mainly coming from my Tumblr) The fics will be set in the Young Justice universe, containing a variety of it's characters. Read if you wish. I'd love to see what you're thought are.





	1. Chapter 1

**_To Find The Hidden_ **

 

The cave was eerily silent after patrol. Robin and Alfred had vanished upstairs long ago, but Batman, he stayed. The faint fluttering of bats wings and the silent hum of machines could be heard echoing off the cavern walls. It was the haunting yet peaceful atmosphere that Batman had come to love.

Bruce wandered around aimlessly, checking the usual hiding spots of his eldest son. Dick had shown up at the manor about a week ago, claiming he had time off from work. Bruce had seen through the lie right away, but didn't bring it up. He was allowing Dick to approach him on his own. However, now that Bruce looked back on it, that probably hadn't been the best idea.

They'd run into the Joker on patrol tonight. The crazed man had, of course, laid out a complex trap for them, and Nightwing had been caught in it. It wasn't one of his usual traps though. Bruce wasn't sure how it was different, but by the way Nightwing had acted after his rescue, it was bad.

Bruce paused in his search and sighed heavily, "Dick?" he called softly, "You here?"

He waited a few minutes, straining his ears to pick up the smallest sound. Nothing. Not the scratching sound of hands against rock, nor the soft 'pat' of graceful footsteps. Not even a ghost of a breath could be heard. Nothing but a haunting silence.

It was time, Bruce decided, to resort to more drastic measures. He hated taking advantage of Dick like this, but it was the only way. He reached behind his back and grabbed a box of cereal. If this didn't work, he didn't know what else would.

He held the cereal -a box of cheerios- loosely in front of him, allowing his eyes to roam the dark cave. It was a dangerous thing, calling Dick by cereal. One needed to be quick and agile, else they be tackled to the floor, painfully.

However, Bruce was ready. He gripped the box tightly, shook it three times, and listened as the sound bounced around the empty cave. It wouldn't be long now.

His muscles tensed as he heard a soft scrape behind him, but he didn't move. Instead, he pushed the cereal further out in front of him, hoping to deter Dick away from his body.

It was silent only a moment longer before breath was forced from Bruce's lungs. He stumbled forward slightly and bent his knees, fixing his center of gravity. Legs were now wrapped around his waist and arms were reaching over his shoulders. Dick was on his back.

Bruce reached behind him, allowing the cereal to be snatched from his hand. He waited patiently and listened as the box was shredded and the bag torn open. Bruce spoke up only when he heard the crunch of Dick chewing.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Bruce asked hesitantly, tilting his head towards Dick.

The chewing stopped and Bruce felt a hand rest on his head.

"Yeah," Dick mumbled, his voice muffled by the copious amount of cereal that he'd yet to swallow.

"I'd like that."

* * *

**Hello! This will be a book of my Tumblr requests. I thought I'd share them with you all. Feel free to ask if you want any to be continued. I'll gladly add chapters!**

**Let me know what you think!**

**Till next time, Rachel**

**(PS. The first two fics are pretty short, but the others will be longer)**


	2. To Get A Job

_**Prompt: The Batboys all go get a job** _

"C'mon Jay! It'll be fun!" Dick whined at him, blocking the only exit.

Jason groaned, rolling his eyes. Whoever gave Dick the idea that they should get a job together was in for a world of pain. Apparently, visiting the manor more often wasn't enough for Dickiebird. Instead, he had run out and got them a job interview.

"No." And Jason meant it, he really did. He had better things to do. He didn't need to get a job with Dick.

"Please Jay! Tim and Damian are doing it too!"

"What are they doing?" Jason questioned, taking a step closer to Dick. Now this was interesting. Demon spawn and Replacement actually doing something together? He leaned against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest.

"They got a job at the smoothie place up the street. Alfred wants us to get along better so he made it into a competition. Whichever team can hold their job the longest gets his cookie recipe." Dick replied casually, still blocking the kitchen door.

Jason thought for a moment, "I suppose we're on the same team?" It couldn't be _that_ bad, could it? Dick nodded his head and grabbed his jacket off the coat rack beside him.

"What's the job?" _'Alfred's cookies are pretty good',_ Jason thought. Maybe it's worth it. He and Dick already got along pretty well.

Jason watched, horrified, as a wicked grin spread across Dick's face.

"Alligator wrestling."

* * *

"Drake, I swear, if you bump into me one more time, I'll dislocate your shoulder." Damian hissed while shoving fruit into a blender.

"Why don't you watch where you're going then?" Tim bit back and walked towards the cash register. The only reason he was tolerating the _brats_ presence was to get Alfred's cookies.

"Well Drake, I was here first."

"Shut up. We have a customer," he announced as the bell hanging on the door chimed.

"Hello, welcome to The Cool Smoothie. What can I get you today ma'am?" Tim stated in his friendliest voice, throwing a smile in for good measure.

"Hi, I'll take a small banana-mango smoothie please." The woman asked, not sparring Tim a glance, and began digging through her purse.

"Damian, one small banana-mango smoothie!" Tim yelled behind him, listening to Damian's angry _tsk_ that followed.

"I already know, Drake," Damian ground out, blending the ingredients together. Tim sighed. There was no way they'd win this competition.

* * *

"And tell me again, what exactly qualifies you for this job?" The interviewer, Tom, asked hesitantly.

"I was raised in the circus!"

"I'm good with guns."

Tom paled and pushed his glasses further up his nose, "Well, since you are the only applicants," he swallowed thickly, "You got the job. Good luck."

Tom shuffled his papers and watched the pair leave. This was not going to end well.

* * *

**Hello everyone! This prompt will be getting another chapter. (Don't worry it'll be longer)**

**What did you think? Did you like it? Leave a comment and tell me. If any of you want to request a fic, just PM me or leave a comment with your prompt.**

**Till next time,**

**Rachel**


	3. Raised By Bats

**Prompt: The BatFam listening to Raised By Bats by Aurelio Voltaire**

Tim had been on YouTube all day, when he discovered a hidden gem. He'd watched it a few times at first, laughing at the familiarity of the lyrics, before deciding to show it to everyone else.

He found Dick first, lounging lazily on the sofa, staring at the TV -Which wasn't even on. Tim ignored the oddity, having adjusted to Dick's weird quirks, and dropped the laptop onto his lap.

"Watch this," Tim stated, sitting down next to Dick.

"What is it?" Dick asked, reading the title of the video, "Raised By Bats?"

Tim rolled his eyes, "Just watch it." He clicked play, and stifled his laughter as Dick concentrated on the lyrics.

_Here at home in this steeple_

_Made of chrome, above a city of steel,_

_I've chosen bats over people_

Dick chuckled and looked at Tim, confused, "What?"

"Shhh."

_'Cause I never did like the way humans made me feel._

Dick pointed at the screen, "This reminds me of Bruce."

Tim paused the video, "I know, now be quiet and listen!" He nudged Dick with his elbow.

The video resumed and Dick was silent for a few lines.

_Now when the people all stop and stare_

_And sat, "Why you gotta dress like that?"_

_I just look them in the eye and tell them_

_I was raised by Bats!_

Dick snorted, "That describes us perfectly."

Tim smirked, "I know," and focused back onto the screen.

"I like the tune, it's pretty catchy. We should play it in the cave."

Tim shook his head, "Bruce would hate it."

Dick smirked back at Tim, something glinting in his eyes, "I know." Dick was silent for the rest of the song, laughing here and there. He looked over to Tim, "Who are you going to show it to next?"

"Jason."

* * *

Jason was found in the kitchen, raiding the pantry of its bread.

"Hey, Jay," Tim started, "Come watch this video."

Jason turned around, a slice of bread in his mouth, "What is it?" Came the muffled reply.

"You'll see," Tim replied, setting the laptop on the counter as Jason walked over, "It's pretty funny."

Tim pressed play, letting the music wash over the two. Jason didn't comment until a little over a minute had passed.

_Now when the people all stop and stare_

_And say, "Why you gotta dress like that?"_

_I just look them in the eye and tell them_

_I was raised by bats!_

Jason snickered, "They're talking about Dick."

Tim's hand flew to his mouth, stifling his laughter. It was true, Dick had one of the weirdest fashion senses out there.

"Remember Discowing?" Tim questioned, glancing towards Jason, who was still munching on bread.

Jason shuddered and looked up in disgust, "How could I forget."

The song continued, and it was close to two minuets before Jason's next reply.

_Just throw your old life away_

_And get raised by bats!_

"What is this? Bruce's new Robin recruitment video?"

And with that comment, Tim choked on his spit, "Well, it would make a lot of sense. Was there a video for you?"

Jason shook his head, "No, Bruce just saw me take his tires. Something must've been broken in his head because it took him about thirty seconds to decide that _I was going to live with him."_

Tim chuckled, "Yeah, maybe."

The next time Jason commented, it was, surprisingly, about Tim.

_So we sleep all day and we rise at night_

"Tim, that's you," Jason jeered, poking Tim in his side.

Tim sputtered, "Wh-whatever. Just watch the rest of the video," he mumbled.

_I just punch them in the eye_

_And I bite them on the thigh_

_And I kick them in the ass_

_Where the sun don't shine._

_I look them in the eye and tell them_

_I was raised by bats!_

"That's definitely the Demon Spawn," Jason joked, "He's bloodthirsty."

It's not like he was wrong. Damian was a terror to everyone, well, everyone except Dick. He liked Dick.

Tim nodded his head, "Agreed."

The song ended and Jason went on his way after telling Tim where he could find Bruce and Damien.

* * *

It was rather easy to hook his laptop up to the cave's speakers. Tim was currently hidden behind the stairwell that led to the manor, watching the pair sitting at the computer.

It was time.

Tim clicked play and watched Damian jump out of his chair from the sudden burst of noise. He hid his face in his elbow and watched Bruce look up at the ceiling confused. Tim's laughter got the better of him when Damian started to glare at the cave like it had offended him.

"Drake!" Damian whipped his head in Tim's direction, "Turn off this infernal nonsense!" He roared and sprinted towards Tim's hiding place.

"Never!" Tim shouted back, running away.

This went on for a few minutes while Bruce sat silently in his chair. The song was still playing on full blast, and he could only hope it wasn't going to be a repeat of last time.

Jason and Dick were not allowed to use the aux cord. Ever.

_Not since the Narwhal incident._

* * *

**Welp, I'm back with another short fic. I'll be honest, I didn't know this song existed until today, so it was rather amusing to write about!**

**If you want, give me a prompt, and I'll gladly write a story for you!**

**Till next time,**

**Rachel**

**(PS: To Lucky and Air-Is-My-Pollution, I have your requests and will start those chapters!)**


	4. Here's Why

There are reasons why Nightwing always told the Team to stay away from Deathstroke. Very good reasons in fact. One of those being that they could die, obviously. No matter how strong they thought they were, the Team wouldn't ever stand a chance at defeating the man. He barely did on a good day, _barely_. Although, now that he thought about it, Slade probably lets him win on those days.

Dick let out an exasperated breath and tugged against his restraints. Of course the Team _had_ to encounter Deathstroke on his -forced- day off. He'd gotten the alert and -against his body's wishes- somehow managed to drag his flu ridden self out of bed and towards the mountain. He was going to give them a _really_  long lecture if it wasn't important. When he arrived, nobody was dying and, according to Robin, the Team had managed to escape the man with little to no injury. Simple, easy, and a little strange. If Dick were feeling better, however, he would've noticed the strange occurrence of the Team actually escaping Deathstroke.

Despite his brain screaming at him that something was up, Dick pulled himself over to the couch and flopped down, intending to doze off for a bit, he really wasn't feeling well. At least, he was until a loud explosion rocked his senses, causing Nightwing to spring onto the floor. He could hear the Team shout in confusion from behind, but Dick was distracted by the large boot that dug into his back.

Cursing his sick body and slow movements, Nightwing was just barely able to make a joke before he was efficiently knocked out.

That brings him to his current situation. Dick's hands were bound tightly together and were resting in his lap, much different compared to how he was normally contained. Although, his legs were tied together this time so Dick didn't really know if his hands being in front of him mattered to much. The Team wasn't much better, they were all tied together with...steel cables? Probably to keep Superboy at bay, at least, until he woke up.

Nightwing was separated from the group, and sat a few feet from the couch. At least he hadn't moved very far. The headache pounding in his skull didn't help with his current situation either, it hurt to think. Man, he really should've stayed in bed today. The Team, the ones who were awake, were chatting -arguing- loudly, blaming each other for their current predicament.

"Hey, be quiet!" Nightwing whispered harshly, his voice sounding scratchy and raw. Dick wasn't too happy about being stuck here, all he wanted to do was go back to his apartment and sleep. Maybe he'd take a few pills. His throat was sore, and he could feel a new bruise blooming on his back, so who could blame him for being a bit agitated.

Dick knew Deathstroke had something to do with this. Nobody escapes him unless Slade wanted them too. If only he'd been more alert and actually asked Tim what happened when they came across the mercenary, then maybe he wouldn't be tied up like this. Dick twisted his hands in his restraints, testing the strength. They were good. Whoever -Slade- tied them had to be a professional, and Dick knew he wouldn't be getting out of these any time soon.

Speak of the devil. Deathstroke entered silently, stalking over to stand between Nightwing and the Team, "Oh God," Nightwing droned, stifling a cough, he really didn't want to deal with this today.

Deathstroke turned his head, "Yes?"

Really? Was Slade really going to do this? Of course he was, "Sorry to destroy your ego, but your not God," Dick replied, sounding a bit stuffy and lacking his usual playfulness. Dick's stomach was starting to feel weird. He hoped he didn't puke, he'd just washed his suit a few days ago.

"Hmm. Only as far as this dimension is concerned," Slade replied smoothly, crouching down to Dick's eye level, analyzing him.

Before he replied, Dick looked over to the Team, Superboy was awake. If he could distract Slade long enough they'd be able to escape. Slade wouldn't kill him, but Dick knew he had no qualms with killing the young heroes.

"That was actually a pretty good one. I'm surprised it came from your mind," Dick said sarcastically, and then, with a bitter note, "What are you doing here?" A small cough followed shortly behind his retort.

Slade looked at him for a moment before turning towards the Team, who were, quite literally, shaking in their boots. They all knew what this man was capable of. Actually, now that he thought about it, Dick bet they started panicking once they heard him speak to Slade. They probably thought Dick had a death wish right about now. He'd never told them he knew the mercenary, only to stay away from him.

"You see, Little Bird," Slade said, turning back to Dick, "I'm here because these brats," he pointed behind him, "destroyed something that belonged to me."

"No we didn't," Artemis shouted, making Dick mentally smack his forehead. Of course she had to start yelling.

"It truly wasn't us this time Deathstroke," Kaldur added calmly, trying to keep the mercenary from getting agitated.

Deathstroke chuckled, "Oh but you did at one point, and you need to learn what happens when you destroy something that's mine."

Deathstroke walked behind Dick and grabbed something off the floor, and silently slipped back in front of the Team.

At this, Dick began to mutter quietly to himself, "It's always when I'm sick. Something bad always happens when I'm sick," he struggled against his bonds again. What was Slade even doing here? The Team hadn't destroyed anything today. Well, nothing that he knew of.

"Are you talking to yourself?" Deathstroke asked quizzically, stopping Dick's quiet murmuring.

Dick glared at the man and wiggled again, he could feel his nose starting to run, "I was until you interrupted," he replied and brought his arms up to wipe away the snot. Dick really didn't care anymore. Maybe Slade would get bored and leave?

Slade dropped the bag and approached Dick, once again crouching to his level, "You can argue about anything can't you?"

Yeah, that's right, keep your attention here so they can escape, "No I can't."

Deathstroke chuckled as he reached out to and grab Dick's chin, "You just proved my point, Little Bird."

Robin had escaped, it was only a matter of time before the rest did as well, "No I didn't. Also, did I mention that kick in the groin you'll be receiving if you touch me again?" Dick accused, his voice sounding slightly stuffy. Slade hummed quietly before releasing his face.

"Are you feeling okay? You're lacking in your usual...humor," Slade asked as he stood and drew his sword. He must've heard the Team escape.

"He's fine, but you're not going to be!" Kid Flash shouted suddenly. Dick looked past Slade and over to the Team. They were all now standing, free of the cables, and ready to fight.

"Guys run," Nightwing yelled, his voice hoarse, "You can't beat him!"

They stood there and had the gaul to look offended, "But what about you?" Impulse asked worriedly.

"I'll be fine, he won't kill me," Dick assured, _If they don't leave right now, so help me God I'll kick their little as-_

"How do you know that? The guys a freaking mercenary!" Artemis screeched.

"Well, if you ever want my opinion," Deathstroke suggested.

"We don't," Kid Flash interrupted.

"Rest assured that I won't kill him, even though he is an incredible pain," He finished, ignoring Kid Flash's comment.

Dick looked right at his Team, "Go. Now."

"No. We didn't destroy anything of his, so what are you really doing here Deathstroke?" Superboy growled, raising his fists.

"Well, if you must know, I'm here to visit my favorite little bird," Deathstroke replied, putting away his sword and crossing his arms over his chest.

Great. Here come the questions that Dick didn't want to answer.

"What are you talking about?" Robin asked hesitantly.

"Oh? You don't know?" Slade turned to face Dick, "Is this one of those times when you want me to lie to protect your delicate emotions?" He joked.

Dick groaned in frustration, "Guys, if you don't leave right now, the only mission you'll be doing is training!" He threatened harshly, holding back a cough. He didn't want to appear even more sick than he already did.

"...Okay," Kaldur started, "We will leave only if Deathstroke allows it," he finished, looking up to the masked man.

"Go ahead, get out. Nightwing will be back later. _Unharmed_."

As soon as they left Deathstroke approach him, taking off his mask and kneeling once more, "Are you okay kid? What's your problem? You sick?"

Dick really wanted to go home, he was snappier than usual, "Well, if you must know, my problem is with you and your face and the fact that I can see it. Go away!"

Slade eyed him for a moment, "That's it kid, I'm taking you home," He quickly picked Dick up and threw him over his shoulder.

Dick groaned and shut his eyes tightly, the sudden movement did not help his head at all. If anything, he felt more sick than he did earlier. With Dick's brain rattling around, he mumbled out the first response that came to mind.

"Does this mean we're friends?" He asked, smacking Slade's back with his bound hands as he walked.

Slade grunted, "I don't know. I don't think I'd be able to handle your terrible puns all the time."

Dick smirked at that, "Clearly you're incapable of appreciating my genius," he joked.

Laughing, Slade replied, "Whatever helps you sleep at night kid."

"Slade"

"Hm"

"I'm gonna puke."

* * *

**Well, this is a strange one. I wrote it a few days ago at like, three am. I was scrolling through Pinterest and saw some story prompts so I , of course, used a few.**

**And thus, this story was born.**

**Anyway, now that I've resurrected and rejoined the land of the living, -I've been studying for my AP and final exams- are there any requests for new chapters? They can be about anything you want.**

**Also, what did you think about this chapter? I'm a bit iffy about it, but I wanted to post it for y'all anyway. Let me know in the comments bellow! :)**

**Til next time,**

**Rachel**


	5. Finding Solace

It was serene, dark storm clouds littered the night sky, a foretelling of heavy rain to come. The wind was harsh and cold, chilling him to his core. Even with the insulating layers of his suit, he was still freezing, teeth chattering loudly throughout the silent rooftop. Every now and then, a small raindrop would land on his cheek, mixing pink with the blood that leaked from his mouth.

His eyes were fuzzy, and the shattered lens of his mask weren't doing him any favors either. He coughed once, only a light push of the lungs. A slight strain. It wasn’t a cough that hinted at sickness, but a light cough that spoke wonders about the state of his respiratory system.

As he lay there, waiting for the inevitable, he couldn’t help but think about how his luck always turned out dry. Of course the weather would do this to him, especially on a night like this. Seemed like it only ever happened to him. He was sure that Batman never got rained on when he was busy. The clouds were too afraid of him to do that.

It was stupid, what he’d done. Stupid. Should’ve listened to Batman and brought back up. _Should’ve, would’ve, could’ve. It didn’t matter now. What’s done is done,_ he thought bitterly.

Maybe if he would’ve known Joker _and_ Deathstroke had set a trap for him, if he’d done a bit more reconnaissance, then maybe a dart wouldn’t have been shot into his neck. But still, that's a lot of maybes, and you certainly couldn’t live off those.

Thunder cracked above him and startled him slightly, making his body jolt painfully. It would start pouring soon, he could smell it in the air. Even with his discomfort from the previous fight, and the unknown toxin running through his blood, the smell still managed to calm him.

He was starting to drift as the wind softly caressed his face. His eyelids were begging him to close, but he couldn’t let them. If he did, he would surely never open them again. A sad thought, but true nonetheless. He let out a small gasp of air, his chest tightening ever so slightly with every exhale.

Maybe he should call Batman?

No. They weren't on speaking terms right now, not since their latest argument. He didn’t need Batman’s help. Wanted to prove that _he could do this. That he could handle himself. On his own._

He lay on his back, resting on the cold hard ground for minutes, perhaps even hours before he lost feeling in his legs. A painful tingle taking their place instead. The wind picked up as a slight drizzle began to wet his clothes. Perhaps he would die of hypothermia before the toxin killed him. He chuckled, coughing blood up in the process, a funny thought.

He wondered briefly how Bruce would take his death. It was too late to call the man for help, his pride wouldn’t allow for that. Would Bruce mourn? Host a funeral? Do nothing at all?

It was weird, thinking that in just a few short hours, he’d be dead. A blotch of ink on black paper. Unnoticeable and forgotten. How long before people came looking for him? It was quite possible that they never would.

It wasn’t that he was afraid to die alone -no, he was content with it- he’d just hoped that it wouldn’t be lonely. He hadn’t expected it to be so _lonely._ _So empty._ There was so much he wanted to say, but who was here to listen?

His eyes closed on their own accord -albeit he didn’t fight too hard to stop them. He’d rest for a few minutes, only a few, then he’d call Bruce. Swallowing thickly, he attempted to spit some blood out of his mouth. Attempted being the key word because he ended up coughing and puking instead.

What a mess he must look, soaked to the bone, blood all over, and now puke on his face. Lying in a puddle of his own bodily fluids. Oh, what this would do for his already fragile reputation. What a mess.

The rain began to fall harder, and he had to close his lids tightly together to prevent his eyes from hurting. At least the cold chill that had settled into his bones was finally starting to fade. He ignored the fact that he could no longer feel his chest, nor the air entering and leaving his lungs.

His breath turned ragged, and he knew it was almost time. Maybe he should call Bruce. The least he could do was let the man know. Stretching out his arm, he dragged the limb across the gravel, a trail of blood following it, and brought pressed the comm in his ear. The whole process took just a few minutes. Everything was too sluggish. His brain was too foggy.

But at least the pain had left.

The comm rang, “This is Batman.”

He let out a hiss of rattling breath, causing the man on the other line to go silent for a moment. Batman spoke again, but he didn’t hear it. It was pouring now, a full thunderstorm underway, muffling the words being yelled at him through the comm. They sounded concerned he thought, but everything was to quiet to tell for sure.

Everything around him quieted as he focused in on the sound of falling rain. It was peaceful, the thought drifted through his mind. Just a few more minutes and it would all be over. He smiled slightly, showing bloody teeth.

He opened his eyes once more and looked up at the sky, after all, Dick found peace in the rain.

* * *

 

So **this was just a short story based on a prompt that said, "Have your character die with their last words being "Person found peace in the rain."**

**So this little story was born.**

**What do you think? Any favorite parts? Please, let me know in the comments. And if you have any story requests, let me know, and I'll write them!**

**I think that's it for now.**

**Til next time,**

**Rachel**


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